


once upon a storm

by bail



Category: American Idol RPF, David Cook (Musician)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Alternate Universe - High School, M/M, Mutation, X-Men Crossover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-11
Updated: 2012-04-11
Packaged: 2017-11-03 11:20:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/380835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bail/pseuds/bail
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The grey smoke that always fills Archie’s eyes when he’s playing with the weather dims as he turns his attention to Dave. X-Men!AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	once upon a storm

**Author's Note:**

  * For [starsaregoingout (abovetheruins)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/abovetheruins/gifts).



> **Disclaimer:** David Cook, David Archuleta and et al. belong to themselves. No copyright infringement is intended.
> 
>  **A/N 1:** Thanks to [aohatsu](http://aohatsu.livejournal.com/) for the look over and [yehwellwhatever](http://yehwellwhatever.livejournal.com/) for beta'ing the fic for me! This story is dedicated to the lovely [soverignthorn](http://soverignthorn.livejournal.com) who gave me the prompt back in August. Happy birthday sweetheart! The story can also be read at my [fic journal](http://bail.livejournal.com/8841.html) over at livejournal.

"Your boyfriend is doing it again," Neal says and looks at Dave as if it's his fault. Dave returns the stare, one eyebrow slightly arched in a mixture of annoyance and amusement.

"You do realize that he's not actually my boyfriend, right?" he finally says after a couple of silent moments. He looks away from Neal, swallows a couple of times, and runs his hand through his hair.

"But you want him to be your boyfriend," Andy says, forever helpful on the sideline. Dave turns to look at his friend, giving him his best glare. Andy holds up his hands, a small smirk gracing his lips when he says, "What? It's the truth. You want him, I know it, and Neal knows it. Fuck, I’m pretty sure that everyone at school knows it… It’s not actually a secret. You’re so transparent when it comes to him.”

Dave looks away, holding his hand out in front of him and watches as the flames dance on his palm. It soothes him; calms him down, to watch the pale, orange flames move across the palm of his hand silently.

"I just…" he says, words trailing off. He looks up, eyes on the sky outside the window. It's dark with soundless thunderbolts and what appears to be a storm. The forecast had promised a cloudless sky and sun, sun, sun. The sky right now is completely the opposite.

"You just need to tell him," says Neal, lighting up a cigarette, smoke sneaking out of the corner of his lips. They aren’t supposed to smoke inside, but Dave has stopped telling Neal that since he obviously doesn't give a fuck about it. To be honest, neither does Dave. Andy looks between Dave and Neal, before he shakes his head slightly, as if he's tired of listening to this.

"And if he doesn't?" Dave doesn't even bother to finish the sentence as they all know what he means.

"Then you'll know," says Andy gently. That’s not Andy’s ability. To calm people that is, though sometimes Dave thinks that it is. Andy is always good at saying the right thing; always manages to say something that sounds both logical and right and which makes Dave feel – if not good, then at least okay.

"And then you can move on. Maybe with that blonde chick. You know, the one who can walk through walls?" Neal continues with a smirk. "I heard that she has a crush on you."

Dave just looks at Neal. Sometimes he doesn’t even know why he’s friends with Neal.

"What?" Neal grins. The snakebites glints dimly in the poor light of Dave's flames, which are now dancing up along his right arm, flickering and hissing at Neal every now and then. Dave doesn’t care. "It's true. Not my fault that I can hear thoughts. She should be more careful with what she's thinking."

Dave looks at Andy, who looks at Neal. Andy’s angel-like wings unfold from his back and twitches, the feathers ruffling as the wings stretch to their full size.

"Don't even think that!" Neal says, though he sounds amused at whatever Andy is thinking. Dave doesn't want to know. He's fairly sure that Andy and Neal are together, but none of them have said anything to him, though he hasn't heard any protests from Neal whenever he's wondered about it in front of him.

"Okay," he says. Neal and Andy look at him. Neal smirks before Dave even gets a chance to say what he wants. "I'll tell him. Now. So," he scratches the back of his neck, "Yeah. I'll be right back. Maybe."

He gets up, ignores Neal's lewd parting comment that he thinks Dave ought to hear. Andy smacks Neal's arm, though Dave notices out of the corner of his eye that the smack turns into a soft caress. Neal huffs something that Dave can't hear – he's too far away to make out the words properly – though it sounds like _fucking finally_.

He walks out through the patio doors and heads for the farthest corner where he knows Archie will be. True enough; Archie is sitting there, on the railing. His feet dangles over the side and his palms are pressed against the fabric of his pants just above his knees, while he watches the ominous, dark sky intently.

"Hey," he says as he leans forward to rest his elbows on the railing next to Archie's thigh.

"Oh, um, Cook, hi," Archie says. He appears to be startled by Dave's sudden appearance. Dave turns his head and looks at Archie's profile, taking in the sight of flushed cheeks. Archie’s chest is rising slightly every time he inhales and Dave watches, transfixed at the motion. He forces himself to focus on the task.

"I need to tell you something," he says, voice low. He partly hopes that Archie won't be able to hear him, but Archie turns to look at him, eyes wide and so fucking big that it makes Dave's heart skip a beat. The grey smoke that always fills Archie’s eyes when he’s playing with the weather dims as he turns his attention to Dave, a soft, warm, pretty hazel shining through.

"Um, yeah?" Archie's smile looks hesitant. The corner of his lips twitches, as if he's not sure if he's going to like what Dave wants to tell him.

"Okay, so," Dave looks at the sky, watching as the storm picks up and trees sway enthusiastically in the horizon, moving from side to side, branches spreading and leaves falling down.

"Yes?" Archie's fingers are splayed on the railing right next to Dave's elbow. He hadn't even noticed that Archie has moved his hand.

"Could you get down from there?" he asks, clearing his throat.

"Um," Archie says, eyebrows displaying his confusion over Dave's odd request. "Sure?"

He turns and Dave automatically reaches out, hand on Archie's waist as he helps him get down without falling. His fingers burn at the contact and he has to check if he’s unconsciously lit himself on fire again. He hasn't, thankfully. Last time he had touched Archie, he accidentally did that, and as a result he burned Archie's shoulder slightly. It had healed the moment Brooke had touched the burned skin, her hands correcting whatever Dave had done, but still. It's a painful memory and he doesn’t want to hurt Archie again.

"Cook?" Archie asks when Dave hasn't said anything for who knows how long.

"Right. Right," he says as he runs a hand through his hair. The storm moves closer to them; moves around them. For a moment, it feels as though it's pushing them closer together. "I need to tell you something. Or ask you something. Depends on how you look at it."

"Okay?" Archie still looks confused, a flicker of grey smoke appearing at the corner of his right eye.

Dave reaches out, catches Archie's hand in his. He focuses on keeping the flames at bay, to suppress the urge to disappear beneath the orange flicker of light. "I like you," he manages to say.

Archie smiles shyly, looking down at his feet for a brief moment. "And the question?"

"I was wondering if maybe you liked me too?"

"Of course I like you," Archie says, his voice sounding a bit weird. Dave’s eyes widen when he realizes that maybe they are not talking about the same kind of liking. He scratches his chin.

"I mean, like me, _like me_. You know?" He tries.

"Oh." Archie’s lips curl together into a tiny round shape.

Dave's heart is practically in his throat. He's just about to let go of Archie's hand when Archie's fingers wrap tighter around his, squeezing reassuringly. He looks curiously at Archie.

"Um. I do. I, err, I thought you knew that?"

Dave lets out a small laugh, suddenly relieved. "Yeah?" he asks, needing to be completely sure.

"Gosh, yes. I thought Neal told you? I mean. He can hear thoughts. And he heard, um, mine like last month after the night run that Professor Cowell had us doing? You had just saved me from the falling tree and Neal was standing next to you and he – oh my gosh – he heard my thoughts and I… well, um, I assumed he had told you."

Archie moves his weight from one foot to the other, feet shuffling against the stone floor of the terrace overlooking the big garden leading into the woods. Archie looks at the swaying trees, and Dave follows his gaze. He remembers that night clearly. He had grabbed Archie’s arm, dragged him to the side and used his ability to clear the path by burning the tree. It was also the night that he had accidentally burned Archie too.

“No,” he says, voice low. “He didn’t.” Dave is going to kill Neal for not telling him. Archie squeezes his hand again and Dave stops thinking of ways to kill Neal and instead focuses on Archie who's right in front of him and has just admitted to liking him. Archie likes him. Just like Dave likes Archie. His heart picks up speed – just like the storm had done mere moments ago – beating against his chest so fast and hard that he sure that he’ll bruise.

"Do you want to maybe go to the movies sometime?" he finally asks, when he’s managed to calm down a bit. He pulls Archie closer and laces their fingers together. The storm settles down, and for a moment it's so quiet that they'd be able to hear a pin drop from a mile away.

"Yes," Archie says and grins, cheeks flushing a dark red. It’s adorable. Archie is adorable. A pink tongue darts out to wet the plump – without doubt soft, too – lips. Dave watches, mesmerized at the sight.

"Good," he says, his free hand going up to touch Archie's cheek. The hand is covered in flames, but Archie still leans into his touch. Like he's not afraid of Dave hurting him. Like he trusts Dave to keep the flames quiet and harmless. The storm is now completely gone – the grey smoke in Archie’s eyes has disappeared as well – and slowly but surely, they can hear other students walking around on the grounds and inside the school.

Dave vaguely hears the bell rings in the distance, but it’s not until Professor Cowell clears his throat behind them that he pulls his hand away from Archie’s cheek and takes a step back. His fingers itch from the lack of contact and he wants to reach out again. Professor Cowell doesn’t say anything, just raises an eyebrow at the pair of them. Dave feels Archie’s smaller, softer, sun-kissed hand slip back into his own pale, slightly calloused one. It fits perfectly in Dave’s hand. Together, they head towards class, Dave silently planning their date and Archie squeezing his hand every now and then.

_fin._


End file.
